


Ready

by toosolidcuuj



Series: dorktp [12]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mustang's Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 00:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14532243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toosolidcuuj/pseuds/toosolidcuuj
Summary: Mustang & Co find out about Ed's engagement.





	Ready

Ed didn’t know what he was doing here. He hardly ever reported in to the bastard when he was working for him, so why the hell did he feel the need to drop in while he was in Central? There was an apple pie calling his name in Risembool, not to mention the girl who baked it . . .

But there Ed was, sharing photos and stories from his trip with Mustang and Hawkeye and their crew. Hawkeye passed one of Ed’s pictures to Mustang, who looked over it casually.

"And the world is down one overgrown shark. I was getting worried about those," he said, not even trying to not be an asshole.

"Which is why I took care of it," Ed sneered back. "I'd hate to drag you away from your beloved paperwork."

Something behind Ed caught Mustang's eye, which made him groan, "Speak of the devil." Sure enough, Falman came in with a huge stack of supply requisitions.

"Lieutenant Colonel Miles will need these approved by tomorrow," said Falman with a nod to Ed.

"Of course he will," said Mustang. "Does he need any DA forms signed while we're at it?"

"Oh! I forgot those!"

Ed would've laughed had Falman not slammed into him on a hairpin turn, jarring Ed's hand from his pocket. The little black box that was inside fell onto the floor.

Falman's apologies were cut off as Havoc squealed, "Is that what I think it is?"

Ed bent to pick the box up, but Breda beat him to it. "Now if I didn't know better," he said, "I'd say the chief's planning to tie the knot with that mechanic of his."

"Give it  _ back _ ," said Ed, grabbing at Breda's shoulders in order to get ahold of his arm.

"Havoc, catch!" Breda's throw was off, but Havoc's reflexes had completely recovered.

"Aw, come on, Fullmetal," he said as he straightened, black box in hand. "We just want to see what kind of ring you got her."

"What do you want to bet it's some honking tacky-ass ruby?" Breda laughed, the dick.

"I'll turn  _ you _ into a honking tacky-ass grease stain on the sidewalk!"

"Edward." Hawkeye glared at him from her desk. "They can hear you down the hall."

Right. And Mustang had loftier neighbors now than he had at Eastern Command. Normally Ed wouldn't care about how Mustang's office appeared to them, but he didn't want to make Hawkeye's job any more difficult. "Sorry," he grumbled.

She stood and claimed the box from Havoc, who needed no coercion. "Is it all right if I see?" she asked Ed.

"Yeah, sure," he sighed as the rest of Mustang's team huddled around her.

Inside the box was  not a tacky ring, but a simple argentium sterling band. Ed, not being an idiot, (and having bought Winry jewelry before) knew Winry wouldn't wear anything ornate, or of a metal that wouldn't wear well. She was hard on her hands. And in any case, Hawkeye seemed to approve. "How are you going to ask her?" she asked.

Oh. "Um," said Ed. "I kind of already did."

"Damn," said Breda.

"Tough luck," said Havoc.

"Better luck next time?" asked Fuery, as though unsure there would be a next time.

"Whaa -" Ed sputtered, confused. "She didn't say no!"

"She said maybe?" asked Havoc.

"She said yes!" More than yes. Her counteroffer had been eighty-five percent when his initial had been fifty. Definitely a yes.

"Oh, I get it," said Breda. "The first ring  _ was _ a honking tacky-ass ruby and this is the one she made you get instead."

" _ No _ ! I didn't  _ have _ a ring at the time, okay? I just - decided to ask her, and she said yes. End of story." Ed wasn't going to give them any more details than that. He just couldn't. He knew it was kind of an unorthodox marriage proposal, but it had meant a lot to him, and there was no way he was going to share it so they could pick it apart. No way.

"You didn't try to romance her or anything?" asked Havoc. "No flowers, candlelight? Ladies like that, you know."

Ed folded his arms. "Not my style."

Breda guffawed. " _ What _ style?"

"Oh shut up. Why should I listen to any of you? You're all single, aren't you?"

Ed was pleased to watch their expressions fall. They made their little protests. "I haven't been single that long . . ."

"I had to break it off with her."

"It's not  _ my _ fault I have bad luck with women . . ."

"Tch. Losers, all of you," said Ed. "Even ‘Mr. Lady-Killer’ over here -"

Was being uncharacteristically quiet. Ed would've expected Mustang to join in on the ribbing, or at least make some snarky comment. But he just sat there with folded hands over the bridge of his nose, eyes wide.

"What's with you, Mustang?" Ed asked. "You look catatonic."

"You're too young to get married," Mustang muttered.

Ed laughed, because damn was that ironic. "You jerking me around, Mustang? Seriously? The same guy who recruits me to be a  _ human weapon  _ at _ eleven _ is telling me I'm too young to get married at eighteen? Shit, go ahead and tell me another."

"He's got a point, though," said Breda.

"You sure you want to give up your bachelorhood already?" asked Havoc. "Isn't there stuff you want to do before you settle down?"

Ed never understood when guys talked like that - like getting married meant your life was over. Last he checked, getting married wasn't signing yourself over to house arrest. Married people could do anything single people did - except people that weren't their spouse, obviously. "Well, sure, I want to do some research," he said. "But I'll always want to do research. I still consider myself an alchemist, you know. I don't see how getting married changes any of that."

"But Ed," said Hawkeye, "when you do research it tends to involve, how should I put it -"

"Ridiculous amounts of ass-kicking?" supplied Breda.

"Death-defying acts of daring?" said Falman.

"Explosions?" Havoc topped it off.

"Risky. Your research tends to be very risky," said Hawkeye. "And a wife would expect you to stay, well, safer. She needs you to come home to her, after all."

"And this is different from my current relationship with Winry  _ how _ ?" Ed rolled his eyes. "And you guys are just saying that because the exciting parts are all you ever see. Most of the time I'm reading. In dusty old libraries. Not all of which I have to travel to. Not like we couldn't travel  together , once we're married. I still don't get what the big deal is."

"It's a big commitment -"

"No shit, really?"

"You're sure you're ready." Hawkeye said it like she'd noticed what color he was wearing.

"Yeah."

Mustang got up from his desk and actually put a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Congrats, Edward. I’m sorry about freaking out earlier. It’s just weird to think of that punky kid from Risembool getting married. Makes me feel old, I guess.”

Well. That was. Weird. Mustang actually calling Ed by his full first name? Staring off into space as his definition of “freaking out?” Leaving Ed an easy opening for mockery? Not that Ed wasn’t going to take it, of course.

“Maybe you should try it more often, Mustang,” he said. “Then you’d fit in better with General Old Fart and Commander McFossil next door.”

Mustang made his signature Bastard Smirk then, and everything was back to normal. “Maybe I should.”

“So when’s the wedding?” asked Fuery.

Havoc asked, “We’re all invited, right?”

“Just so long as it’s not one of those cheesy themed weddings,” sneered Breda.

“It’ll be in Risembool. So automatically country themed,” said Havoc.

“Sheep themed, actually,” Ed said sarcastically. “It’s Risembool law.”

“Oh God,” said Havoc, laughing.

Ed only stayed long enough to accept everyone’s congratulations and collect addresses to send invitations to. He wasn’t anxious to stay in Central  _ too  _ long, after all. That apple pie really was calling his name.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 503 day!


End file.
